Resident Evil: Royal Rumble
by John Damen
Summary: This is the brain child of 25 hours of sleep deprevation. Pure nuttiness. No plot. Just for humor. Chapter 2, Now up.
1. Default Chapter

Okay, kiddies, I wrote this after I had gone about 25 hours without sleep. It is pure nuttiness, has no plot, and is just here to give a few people a chuckle. Like it or no, just leave me a review and tell me what ya thought. I've decided that even if I get flamed, this story will continue until either I run out of ideas, or I feel it is time to call it quits.  
  
Once again, NO PLOT! PURE NUTTINESS!  
  
You stand warned. Read at your own risk.  
  
Resident Evil: Royal Rumble  
  
By John Damen  
  
Round 1  
  
Deep inside a stadium dome that was normally used for hosting such events as the World Wrestling Federation, and the World Championship Wrestling, another event was taking place. An event that had drawn people and fans from all across the continental United States, and indeed, from all across the globe. People from as close as Canada, and as far away as Russia and Japan have flocked to this arena in hopes of finding a seat, and when the seats sold out, people took to standing in the aisles. They were eagerly awaiting the start of the event, looking up into the announcer's booth with thinly concealed anticipation.  
  
The intercontinental audience was about to start chanting for the start of the event when two booming voices echoed across the stadium, and in an instant, the audience was cheering.  
  
"Good evening everybody, I'm Nick Diamond."  
  
"And I'm Johnny Gomez."  
  
Cameras zoomed in on the announcer's booth, showing two men. One was tall and thin with black hair and green eyes, the other was short and chubby with auburn hair and blue eyes.  
  
"After many years of being away," the tall thin man said, whom was Johnny Gomez, "Celebrity Deathmatch returns and with a rare treat for you tonight."  
  
"That's right, Johnny," said Nick Diamond, "After two successful games entitled Marvel vs. Capcom, the Capcom Corporation has decided to bring for your viewing entertainment, Resident Evil: Royal Rumble and they could not think of a better way to do this than in a tournament style showing of Celebrity Deathmatch!"  
  
Upon his last statement, the audience went crazy.  
  
"That's right, Johnny. We have gathered characters from all of the Resident Evil games, both well known, and little known, and held them without food or water for three days locked in a 10 by 10 room with only one bed, a TV, and a Playstation 2 with a copy of the notoriously difficult SOCOM II: U.S. Navy SEALs."  
  
"They must be going crazy by now, lets go room-side with Stacy Cornbread. Stacy?"  
  
The cameras cut over to a young woman with blond hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She had on a pink blouse and a short pink skirt and was standing in front of a door, behind which a chorus of yells, and screams of obscenities could be heard.  
  
"Hi guys," Stacy said cheerfully to the camera, "I'm here at the door of the..." she fumbled for the right words, "...guest room. I was going to go in and check on them, but when something heavy hit the door, I decided you don't pay me enough to do that."  
  
The cameras cut back to Nick and Johnny, whom were whispering about a way to force Stacy into the room.  
  
"I say a pitchfork," Johnny whispered.  
  
"Shut up, we're on," Nick whispered back, then turned to face the audience.  
  
Johnny cleared his throat and flashed his teeth at the cameras, "We are sure to have a punishing match of death and destruction for you tonight with a few surprise guests as well, so let's get started."  
  
"Our first match, was at his request," Nick Diamond said as the monitors flashed a picture of a Hispanic man wearing an olive drab military uniform, a black tactical vest, and carrying a Colt M4A1 Carbine, "He's smooth, he's suave, he's horny, and he's ready to kill. Carlos Oliveira!"  
  
Carlos came strolling down the ramp and into the ring. He walked to the far side of the arena and threw his arms into the air, sending the crowd into a frenzy.  
  
The monitors flashed a picture of a slender woman dressed in a blue tube top and a black miniskirt. She had short red hair and blue eyes and was holding a 9millimeter pistol. Johnny let out a wolf whistle through his teeth before addressing the crowd, "She's hot, she's sexy, and she's taken. Jill Valentine!"  
  
Jill came walking down the ramp as well before climbing into the ring and addressed Carlos over the roar of the crowd; "You should've known when to take a hint, now you're gonna pay!"  
  
Carlos had a mixed look of puzzlement and disgust on his face, "What're you talking about, you crazy bitch?" Mills Lane interrupted Jill before she could say anything; "Now I want a good clean fight. No hitting below the belt, no poking of the eyes, and obey me at all times! If you can't handle that, then anything goes. Now let's get it on!"  
  
Carlos and Jill walked to the center of the ring and without a word, which was very unusual, Jill punched Carlos square in the face.  
  
His head snapped back violently and blood began pouring from his nose. Without missing a beat, he dropped into a boxing stance and started moving around the ring, trying to circle her.  
  
She just watched him for a while, then once he crossed in front of her, Jill lashed out with one booted foot, and let her shin slam into Carlos' family jewels.  
  
His eyes bulged out and his face swelled up in pain just before he curled up into a ball on the mat, holding his testicles.  
  
Jill kicked him until he rolled onto his back then started stomping on the man's already ruined privates.  
  
"Ouch. It's the Ball Busting Blitzkrieg," Johnny announced to a cheering crowd.  
  
"This can't be legal!" Carlos squeaked from the mat.  
  
"I'll allow it," was Mills Lane's reply.  
  
As Carlos was cradling his genitalia as though it was the most precious thing on the planet (and to a guy, it is), Jill went to the far corner of the ring, stood on the third rope facing the audience and the announcer's booth, and lifted her tube top over her head.  
  
"You get to see what he never will! Enjoy!" she screamed into the flashing cameras. Nick Diamond was clicking pictures off on his 35millimeter camera, quickly going through a roll of film and went to reload the camera.  
  
Johnny Gomez was sitting calmly, holding a camcorder and grinning, "Two hours of live digital recording with auto-focus. Get with the times, Nick."  
  
Mills Lane was wide eyed with surprise, then pulled out a pad of blank paper and a sharpened pencil, "I'll definitely allow it. This one's going on my refrigerator."  
  
In the 10 by 10 room, the rest of the Resident Evil cast had been watching the fight until that point. The whole of the male cast members promptly darted out of the dressing room, followed by two of the girls.  
  
Chris Redfield and Albert Wesker had gotten stuck in the doorway when they tried to exit at the same time.  
  
"God damnit, Wesker! Move!" Chris shouted.  
  
"If you'd lay off the cookies and ice cream, Redfield, I wouldn't be trapped by your colossal ass!"  
  
"Shut up you two! We have boobies in the ring!" Alexia Ashford screamed and charged the arguing men, knocking them clear into the opposite wall before taking off towards the Deathmatch.  
  
In the match, Jill had taken her top totally off and was dancing to the cheers and whistles of the masses, her breasts exposed for all to see.  
  
By the time the cast emerged from the room, men and a few women were yelling marriage proposals at Jill and the ring was littered with roses and currency.  
  
"Jill, what are you doing?!" Chris shouted at her, "I thought you loved me!"  
  
"I do! I'm just having fun!" Jill yelled back and promptly pushed her miniskirt down and stepped out of it.  
  
"Put that back on right now!" Chris yelled, and the second the words left his lips, a fist shot out of nowhere and laid him out.  
  
"Shut the fuck up!" the owner of the aforementioned fist screamed at the top of her lungs. She was tall, with curly auburn hair and had on thick rimmed glasses.  
  
"Take it off, Jill baby!" she screamed.  
  
Albert Wesker looked at Chris, whom was lying unconscious on the floor, then to the girl with a smile, "Who're you, honey? I don't think I've seen you in RE."  
  
At this, a man about 5 feet, 10 inches tall jumped up from the crowd. He had short cut brown hair, dark brown eyes, a mustache and a beard that, if left uncut any longer, would soon dwarf those for which Z.Z. Top were famous.  
  
"She's Violet Snow, and she's here because I wanted her here!" the man yelled.  
  
"Who're you?" Albert Wesker questioned.  
  
"I'm John Damen, the author of this story!" the man yelled.  
  
At this time, Jill was running her fingers across the waistband of the thong panties she was wearing and enticing the crowd into further frenzy.  
  
Chris regained consciousness and looked to the author; "Can you please get her back in her cloths?"  
  
"What?" John asked, surprised, "Don't you know that if I did that, this crowd would kill me?"  
  
"I'd help them, you know," Violet growled, her eyes glued to Jill's knockers.  
  
Before any more could be said or requested on the behalf of Jill's state of dress, Carlos, whom was all but forgotten, had crawled out of the ring and retrieved a folding chair from an all but insane audience member, and was heading back for Jill's position in the ring.  
  
Jill was so concentrated on exposing herself further to the audience, certain that once this night was over, she would never do something like this again. Probably. May not. At least not until next weekend.  
  
Carlos raised the folding chair over his shoulder as though it were a baseball bat, and slammed it into the side of Jill's head, knocking her flat on her back.  
  
Not satisfied with that, he raised the folding chair over his head and brought it down onto Jill's chest as though he were chopping wood. Jill screamed in pain as the folding chair hit her over, and over.  
  
"It's the Mexican Chair Pummeling of Pain!" Nick Diamond announced to the booing crowd.  
  
When Jill started to cough blood, two men flashed past the cast of Resident Evil and darted for the ring. One man was skinny, but well built, and had shaved his head baled. The other man was considerably larger than his friend and his hair was cut short and dyed blond. Both were in black and white face paint, made up to look like clowns and they were dressed in shredded tiger stripe camouflage.  
  
"Oh my God!" Nick yelled when the men slid skillfully under the bottom rope and into the ring.  
  
"It's the Insane Clown Posse!" Johnny finished, his jaw slack in amazement.  
  
It was true. None other than the tag team of Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope had pulled Carlos off of Jill Valentine and promptly proceeded to give him the beating of his life.  
  
"You should know," Violent J said once he had put Carlos in a choke hold, "We never like a punk who beats on his girl!"  
  
Shaggy was busy kicking Carlos in his stomach, not stopping until he was coughing up more blood than Jill had been, then treated Carlos' head like an American football and tried to score a touch down.  
  
Violent J let Carlos fall back onto the mat and went to help Jill back to her feet. She put her arm around his shoulders and allowed him to help her over to the corner. Once J had brought her discarded cloths back to her, he went back to the beating and stood on Carlos' back while Shaggy kicked his head around.  
  
"I've never seen this done before!" Nick announced, "It's the Homie Head Kick!"  
  
Shaggy hauled Carlos close to one of the posts, and sat on his legs, though Carlos was too weak by this time to do much more than groan.  
  
Violent J climbed onto the top rope of the ring and, favoring the crowed with a grin and two raised arms, jumped off of the buckle.  
  
"It's the Killer Cannon Ball!" Nick yelled, excitement painfully obvious in his voice.  
  
Tucking his legs up and wrapping his arms around his knees in the true cannon ball sense while in midair, all of Violent J's 200 plus pounds landed ass first on Carlos' head.  
  
The head under the immense ass exploded like a tick that had drunk more blood than it could handle, coating the mat of the Deathmatch arena in blood and brain matter.  
  
Mills Lane approached the body once Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope had cleared out. He picked up Carlos' wrist and let it drop limply back onto the mat.  
  
"This match is over!" Mills announced, "The winner is, the Insane Clown Posse."  
  
"What a fight, Johnny," Nick said, "I haven't seen a pounding like that since my Great Dane Booster got a hold of my aunt's poodle."  
  
"Uh...right, Nick," Johnny said, turning a slight shade of green.  
  
Jill was clutching her cloths to her chest, now ashamed of her behavior, as Violet helped her to the dressing rooms. Violet leaned close to Jill and whispered something in her ear, to which Jill's face brightened and they picked up their pace slightly.  
  
"Stay tuned for our next round," Johnny said, now recovered from his friend's crude comment, "There's sure to be plenty more bloodshed, so don't go anywhere!"  
  
* * * Well? What'd ya think? Hated it? Loved it? Didn't care? Leave me a review and let me know. Special thanks to Hello Captain, a good friend and great author. Check her story Girls Will Be Violet if you want a good read and some laughs.  
  
Yes, shameless plug, I know. But its my story, so shut up. While I'm at it, check my stories Turn The Page and One Chance. ^_^  
  
'Till Next Time, ~ John Damen 


	2. Round 2

Round 2  
  
"We're back, with the next round in Celebrity Deathmatch," Johnny said to the cameras.  
  
"We have with us, a special guest commentator," Nick Diamond said, then turned to a short, stout man with brown hair, who's face had been painted white, except for black paint that had been applied around his eyes, "Please welcome, Jamie Madrox, of the rap group Twiztid."  
  
The cameras turned to Jamie, who smiled; "Thank you, Nick. Its good to be here."  
  
"Now, Jamie, it has come to my attention that you are but one member of Twizted. Can I ask why Monoxide Child isn't here right now?"  
  
"I think he's having trouble reading the street signs," Jamie told him.  
  
Meanwhile, In The Blunt Mobile:  
  
A car was rolling down the street, its cabin filled with so much smoke the windows might have been painted white. A hand appeared in front of the windshield and waved quickly back and forth, clearing just enough smoke for a man with a thin face to see out of the glass. He looked around quickly with wide eyes, then disappeared back into the haze.  
  
Back At The Deathmatch:  
  
"Before we get a comment from Jamie," Johnny Gomez said when the cameras turned back to him, "Lets go back to Stacy Cornbread with the fighter's post match thoughts. Stacy?"  
  
The cameras focused on Stacy, whom was walking through the halls backstage.  
  
"Well guys," she began, "I haven't been able to find Jill Valentine since the match. She seems to have vanished or..." Stacy stopped when she heard something from the janitor's office. Soon, the sounds became moans.  
  
Stacy, not realizing the painfully obvious, opened the door to the office just a crack.  
  
"Are you going to help me get in with Burkin, Jill baby?" questioned a voice that the viewers recognized as that of Violet Snowe's.  
  
"Oh my FUCKING GOD YES!!!" Jill Valentine cried out in what the viewers also recognized as an orgasm.  
  
Stacy jerked out of the room when something heavy sailed towards her, followed by Violet's very angry yell of; "HAVEN'T YOU HEARD OF KNOCKING, BITCH?! FUCKING ARSEHOLE!"  
  
Stacy looked at the cameras with a mixture of shock and terror. Shock because you wouldn't expect those kinds of words to come from someone with such a delicate Scottish accent, and terror because she didn't know a stuffed leather chair could be thrown so easily.  
  
In the announcer's booth, Johnny Gomez looked at the cameras; "Uh, well, uh...lets get a comment from Jamie Madrox. Jamie?"  
  
The audience could hear crickets.  
  
"Jamie? Nick?" Johnny was sounding worried. He turned around to find both commentators had turned away from him. Nick was leaning over Jamie's shoulder, his eyes wide and a big grin spread over his face.  
  
Jamie Madrox had an accomplished smile on his face as he looked into the monitor next to him. "What did you do, Jamie?" Johnny asked, wondering what all the fuss was about.  
  
Jamie just shrugged; "I tapped the video feed to the security cameras in the janitor's office."  
  
"Boy, Jill's got a set of hooters. Makes me want to stand up and beg for mother's milk," Nick said, drool rolling down his chin, "Violet ain't half bad either."  
  
Johnny now looked frightened, "Um...lets go back to Stacy Cornbread. Stacy?" Before the cameras cut out, Johnny got out of his seat and went to look into the monitor himself.  
  
Looking around, Stacy quickly spied Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope walking in her direction. Not missing a beat, she forced her face back into a cheerful expression and approached the two clowns.  
  
"Any comments on the fight, guys?" she asked them.  
  
"Yeah, it was messy," Violent J told her, then resumed cleaning the remains of Carlos' head from the seat of his pants with the rag he held.  
  
"Hey, dawg, I'm gonna go ahead. Catch up when you can, a'ight?" Shaggy 2 Dope said to his friend, then entered the janitor's office with a grin.  
  
"So what do you want to know?" Violent J asked Stacy.  
  
"Just your thoughts on the fight?" Stacy asked again, her smile back full force.  
  
"Nothing to say, really. We came, we saw, we crushed his head," Violent J told her, then left.  
  
Stacy turned to the cameras, and flashed the grin that never seemed to leave her face, "So there you have it. Back to you, Johnny."  
  
Johnny was too engrossed in what was happening on the monitors to really care, and so commentated with none of his usual gusto; "Uhh...next fight. Rebecca Chambers verses...uh...a licker...or...something."  
  
Rebecca was already in the ring; "A what?! I never heard of a licker! Is he gonna lick me?"  
  
The licker smiled its wide, lipless smile; "You damned right I'm gonna lick you, sweet thang."  
  
"Shut up!" Mills Lane shouted, after his trip to the...ahem...bathroom, "Now I want a nice clean fight. No hitting below the belt, and no stripteases like the one Mrs. Valentine just put on!"  
  
At this, the audience booed, hissed, and threw so much rotten fruit that Mills had to jump off of, and dive under the ring, but not before shouting; "Now lets get it on!"  
  
"Get it on is right," the licker said, and seemed to grin wider.  
  
"Oh, God. I got a perverted licker."  
  
"Come to skinless!" the licker yelled and chased Rebecca around the ring, causing the poor girl to sob hysterically.  
  
"Get away you vile thing!"  
  
The licker jumped and clamped his limbs around the young medic, its tongue slithering around her muscular thigh.  
  
Nick's eyes bugged out a little and his mouth dropped open; "Rebecca seems to be getting excited, Johnny. I think there's something she hasn't been telling us."  
  
Johnny wore a similar expression on his own face, "Where has she been hiding that all this time!?"  
  
"What are you guys talking about?" Rebecca shouted up to the announcer's booth, but soon her question was answered. She dropped her eyes when she felt something that was not supposed to be where it was pressing against a part of her that should not be touched by just anybody, and it made her gasp slightly, which should not have been done by anyone other than a lover.  
  
When her eyes landed on the considerable bulge in the front of her shorts, she reached behind herself and grasped the licker's strong tongue and pulled it out of the leg of her shorts; "Get that thing away from there!"  
  
"But you taste like che..."  
  
The licker never got further than that.  
  
"HENTAI!!! KIYA!!!" Rebecca yelled and spun around, and kicked the licker hard enough to shatter its jaw and sent it sprawling to the other side of the ring.  
  
"Why you little!!!" the beast got to its feet, and jumped high into the air and landed on the young woman before ripping her clothing open with one razor sharp claw.  
  
"NO!!!" Rebecca screamed and scrambled to regain some sort of modesty even as her nakedness was exposed for all to see.  
  
The licker leered over her, its lipless grin widened and its tongue trailed itself along the swells of her breasts and down along her flat stomach.  
  
Rebecca looked between the licker's legs and screamed in terror of what she saw there.  
  
Nick and Johnny's eyes went wide at the scene before them. It had started almost twenty minutes ago, but it hadn't slowed in pace at all.  
  
"OH GOD!!! PLEASE! IT HURTS SO MUCH!" Rebecca screamed from the mat.  
  
"I GOT A LOT MORE IN ME, HONEY!" The licker shouted back.  
  
Johnny and Nick's eyes widened with Rebecca's agonized grunts, and the licker's excited panting.  
  
"This is inhuman!" Johnny shouted, "Someone save that woman!"  
  
"How many times can he go?!" Nick yelled, "He must be on his 14th by now!"  
  
"OH GOD! ITS SO HARD! PLEASE STOP! I CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE!"  
  
"YOU'LL TAKE IT AND LIKE IT!"  
  
"You know," Jamie Madrox said, holding the video camera at the scene in front of him, "I'm surprised that thing hasn't broken in two now, just from the pounding its taking."  
  
"OH GOD, LET ME GO! PLEASE! ITS TOO BIG!!! OW!!!"  
  
"Oh, I have to remember that one," Jamie said and zoomed in on the action.  
  
"Come on, licker! Shut that off and get on with the fight!" Nick Diamond called down to the ring.  
  
"Oh sonofa..." licker grumbled, but paused his game of Grand Theft Auto: Vice City; where Tommy Vercetti was in the middle of bludgeoning yet another hooker to death with a baseball bat.  
  
"But, I liked making up the voices for the hookers!"  
  
"And you're very good at it, honey," the licker said.  
  
Rebecca grinned, clearly missing the double meaning.  
  
The cameras turned to the author, who scoffed at the reader, "What? You didn't think I'd let Rebecca get raped did you?" John scoffed again, "I like her too much for that."  
  
Rebecca got to her feet, and yelped when her ruined cloths exposed her privates again; "This was my favorite outfit, PERVERT!"  
  
She made her anger perfectly clear by flexing her muscular punting the licker clear out of the ring, where he landed against one of the doorways leading to the parking lots.  
  
The licker got to its feet and glared at the young redhead; "You little tram-"  
  
The beast was cut off when a car came crashing through the doors and squashed the licker under a tire. The door opened and a tall man stepped out, followed by a billowing cloud of smoke.  
  
"What up, homies? Did I miss anything?" questioned the fashionably late Monoxide Child.  
  
Mills Lane came up and examined the growing puddle of blood under the car; "And the winner is...the Blunt Mobile!"  
  
"Well there you have it," Johnny Gomez said to the cameras, "Another great Deathmatch. Stick around because there's more carnage, coming up!"  
  
No one noticed as Rebecca Chambers ran off towards an empty dressing room with her savior, Monoxide Child.  
  
* * *  
  
And yet another long over due chapter. If you got tired of waiting for this one, then check out Shakahnna's story Resident Evil Damnation.  
  
Just make sure you'll have plenty of time to devote to it. Its worth it, I promise you.  
  
'Till Next Time, ~John Damen 


End file.
